


White Christmas

by SammysDove_CrowleysKitten



Series: One-Shots and Such [7]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: "White Christmas" wink wink, Christmas, Dean is a Sweetheart, Decorating, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Good memories for the boys, Mistletoe, Reader wants a real Christmas, Smut Tease, Sorry lovelies, White Christmas, handmade Christmas, saving my first smut fic for Benny, sexual suggestions, tree - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:05:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9052681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SammysDove_CrowleysKitten/pseuds/SammysDove_CrowleysKitten
Summary: Dean and the reader have been dating for awhile and she finally gets up the courage to ask if they could celebrate Christmas... How can he resist her pouty lip and Sam's puppy eyes?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Lovelies,
> 
> Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas! I figured we could all use a little Dean for our holidays ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Sorry Dears, I'm rushing out for a family breakfast and didn't have time to proofread, hope there aren't too many mistakes :)

* * *

 

“Come on Dean it’ll be fun... I’ll even bake extra pies.” You begged, finishing in a singsong tone.

 

“Y/N I told you I don’t wanna waste a bunch of time on a Christmas we won’t even be able to celebrate.”

 

“So let’s take one night off.” Sam interrupted, siding with you. “We haven’t had Christmas in years and the last time we did wasn’t exactly cheery and warm.”

 

Dean looked at you and Sam for a moment, taking in his puppy eyes, and your hopeful smile. “Son of a bitch.” He muttered, “Fine, we can have Christmas.”

 

“Can we get a real tree too?” You beamed.

 

“Of course, Sweetheart.”

 

“Thank you!” You squeaked, throwing your arms around him. You moved to pull away and he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back and crashing his lips into yours. ”I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Baby.” He massaged his thumb over the exposed skin of your hips. “If you wanna grab us a couple jackets we can hunt down a tree stand and get you that real tree.” He spoke with a smile and an added sparkle to the emeralds you always admired. You scampered off to your room and grabbed winter jackets for yourself and Dean, then went to get one for Sam.

 

…

 

Dean turned off the engine and opened the driver door. You bailed out of the impala exclaiming something about the perfect tree, and took off towards the far end of the lot. Dean chuckled, watching how excited you got about the tree, as they headed your way. “You made her really happy, she’s been talking about asking you for weeks now.” Sam admitted.

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Yeah, She said she’s dreamed of having a real Christmas with you.” He quieted to a whisper when they got closer to you. 

 

“What do you think?” You grinned, displaying the tree like a woman on a gameshow. The tree stood easily a foot taller than Dean and was almost five feet in width.

 

Dean chuckled, flashing a bright smile “I think it’s big… Is that the one, Baby?”

 

“If you guys are okay with it. Hint hint, wink wink.”

 

“Looks good to me, I guess we can get it inside.” Sam added.

 

“Ehh, it’ll be fine Sammy.” Dean pulled a wad of twenties from his pocket that he’d won the other day hustling people at billiards, and handed them to you along with the tree’s tag. “Wanna go pay for it, while Sam and I try to get this thing on top of Baby?”

 

“Sure.” You took the money, prancing off towards the little pay station they had set up. The older gentleman asked which tree you picked and you directed his attention to the boys. He snorted at them trying to get the tree on top of the car, and rang you up on his old fashioned register. You politely thanked him, and got  over to the car just as they started tying the tree to the roof.

 

“Better not scratch my baby’s paint.” Dean grumbled.

 

“If it does, can I help you fix it?” You wrapped your arms around his waist. He turned, bringing his arm to wrap around you and pull you close to his side. Dean kissed your head.”

 

“You know I love watchin’ my baby fix my baby.” Dean waited for you and Sam to be in the car before he ran back to the register area, you watched him shove something in his pocket while he jogged back to the impala. 

 

“What did you get?”

 

“Nothin’ you need to worry about right now, Sweetheart.” He smirked, winking at you in the rearview mirror.”

 

…

 

Once the tree was home, the boys fought with getting it through the door and into a stand you’d gotten the other day, while you slipped into the kitchen, you could hear their hushed swearing and brotherly banter. Grabbing a bottle from the cabinet, you mixed the liquor with the cocoa powder and milk. Setting the mugs on a  tray, you strolled out to the foyer and saw the tree standing handsomely in its stand with Sam beginning to battle the box of lights. “She’s lookin’ good men.” You  smiled, raising the tray of hot chocolate. “How ‘bout a pick me up?”

 

“You make it the right way?” Dean winked.

 

“Please, I know my man better than to think you’d drink hot chocolate without alcohol in it.”

 

Sam dropped the lights, and cut Dean off to grab one of the cups. “Thank Y/N.”

 

“Welcome… So can we decorate it yet?” You slunk past Dean to pick up the lights and he caught you with an arm around your waist.

 

“Not so fast, Sweetheart. Didn’t you tell us on the way home that you had a surprise?”

 

In the short time from the impala to the kitchen to the foyer, you had forgotten about your surprise. You gasped, “Oh my god! I completely spaced them. Be right back.” You darted to your room and dropped to your knees rummaging around beneath Dean’s bed. You pulled out a medium sized storage box and ran back to the boys, prancing the last few feet when they came into view. “I don’t know if you’ll wanna use these, but I don’t think we have any other ones.” You offered the box up to Dean and he took it with a smile, opening the tabs on top.

 

Sam stepped closer, and pulled a couple ornaments from the box. They were all hand crafted, paper ornaments, each one seemingly more ornate than the one beside it. “These are really cool, Y/N, where’d you find ‘em?”

 

You blushed a little, ducking your head when saw their eyes focused on you. “I-- I made them… While you were away on hunting trips.”

 

Dean’s eyes got wide and he sifted through the box, pulling out one of the most intricate ornaments, “You made these?”

 

“Yeah… Do you think they’re stupid?” 

 

He was instantly on you and had you enclosed in his arms. “Sweetheart, they’re awesome. I just never knew you could make stuff like that.”

 

You giggled, tiptoeing to kiss him, “Pinterest taught me.”

 

“I love ‘em… and I say we start getting some on up that tree.”

 

“Can I put the lights up.” You beamed, and Dean laughed.

 

“You can do the bottom but I think you might be a little too funsize to reach the top.”

 

You went to grab for the lights a second time, and Dean allowed it. “I guess you’ll just have to lift me up then… or Sam will, since he’s taller.”

 

“Leave me outta this.” Sam chuckled, draining the rest of his hot chocolate.

 

“Sammy isn’t getting anywhere near that perfect little ass.” He purred, pressing himself to your backside with splayed palms gripping either side of your ass. He surprised you with a quick kiss to your neck and grabbed the other end of the lights that Sam was fighting with. The boys untangled them and, with surprisingly few mishaps or swear words, strung the tree perfectly. “How’s she look, Sweetheart?”

 

“She looks beautiful.” You pulled out an ornament for each of you, all three having been crafted specifically for the person that would hang them on the tree. “I tailored these ones for each of us.” You handed Sam a curled snowflake ornament that you had made from a copy of his favorite book. “I know you’ll recognize the book the second you start reading the little excerpts, but don’t worry. I found a super cheap copy at the bookstore down the road, I didn’t use your copy.” Secondly, you handed Dean a photo ball ornament you had made from edited filmstrips of photos that you had taken of his precious car over your time with him and pictures that he had taken of you with Baby. You were sure to include his favorite shot of you on the impala’s hood wearing nothing more than his button-up plaid and a pair of boy shorts.

 

“Damn” He whistled, “That’s my kinda ornament.”

 

“I hoped you’d like it.”

 

“Both my girls lookin’ gorgeous.”

 

“I swear you’d screw that car if I wasn’t here.” You teased, and kissed your forehead.

 

“Which one did you make for you?” Sam inquired.

 

“I made this.” You held up the last one in your hand to display another photo ball like you’d made for Dean, except this one had pictures of all three of you. It had the boys passed out on the couch watching while movies, you helping Dean work on the impala for the first time, Sam planting a snowball on your head while you were on the case in Montana, your first kiss with Dean that Sam had taken a photo of without you knowing, and so many other memories that you would always cherish.

 

The boys hung their decorations on the tree, both of them deciding they wanted yours on full display in the front. After hanging the last decoration Dean smiled, clasping his little brother on the shoulder and pulling you into his arms. “I’m glad you wanted a tree, Baby Girl, I’m diggin’ this real Christmas thing.”

 

“Aww good… But we’re not done yet.” They looked at you in disbelief. “It’s not more decorating, I promise. It isn’t Christmas until you watch the greatest Christmas movie of all time. ‘National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation’.” Not even a ten minutes later you and Sam were comfortably on the couch waiting for Dean to return with popcorn and beer.

 

“I’m happy you told Dean you wanted to do a real Christmas.” He said, glancing over his shoulder. “We didn’t get stuff like this when we were little and I haven’t seen him this happy in years.”

 

“I’m glad to hear that. I remember when I was little, mom and dad swore they wouldn’t take a case over Christmas, surprisingly they didn’t. Mom hustled for a week or two before Christmas to buy presents.” You paused with a smile, “There was a little fake tree in the room we were staying at, and I remember waking up to presents crammed under this tiny tree. Mom and dad weren’t fighting, and nobody said the word ‘monster’ all day, I felt like a normal kid for once. I mean, except for the fact that we were in some cheap, kinda shady, motel room… That was my first, and last, Christmas. But ever since then, I’ve always loved the idea of it.”

 

“The last Christmas we had was right before Dean went to Hell for the first time.”

 

“This one will be a way better memory.” Dean interrupted, sitting in between you and Sam with the bowl. You curled in close to his side, resting your head on his shoulder and snaking an arm across him to steal popcorn. They boys enjoyed the movie, laughing frequently at the jokes, Dean laughing the most. You enjoyed this, these moments of peace and quiet when you could pretend that you and Dean were a normal couple and that this was a normal holiday, as if you celebrated it every year without hesitation or reservation.

 

An hour into the movie, Sam had dozed off, snoring somewhat loudly on his end of the couch. Dean excused himself to use the restroom and you tried to watch the movie in peace. Sam was making that nearly impossible. You scooted along the couch over to Sam’s side, nudging him gently. “Sam… Sam… Sammy, Honey, wake up…” You nudged him harder, “Sam wake your moose ass up.” He didn’t budge, it was like you hadn’t even attempted. Dean came back in and laughed when he saw your tiny form trying to shift Sam into a different position.

 

He pulled you to your feet, wrapping his arms around your waist. “How ‘bout we go to bed, so we don’t have to listen to sleepin’ beauty over there.”

 

“You’re just hoping to get an early ‘Christmas present’.” He didn’t respond verbally, only wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, before slinging you over his shoulder. “Dean!” You squealed, with a giggle. “Put me down.”

 

He smacked your ass, heading towards your bedroom. “Not until you’re naked in my bed, Sweetheart.” You glanced up at Sam who was still passed out on the couch, your squealing not affecting him in the slightest, and shook your head. At the bedroom’s threshold, Dean set you on your feet, stopping you when you tried to enter the room. “Tsk tsk, that’s not tradition, Baby girl.”

 

You let out a strange mix between a scoff and a snicker. “What the hell are you talking about?” He glanced up and you finally saw it. He had hung a mistletoe in the doorway. “Where did you get that?”

 

“The tree farm.”

 

It finally clicked, “So that’s what you went back to get. That was pretty good, Winchester.”

 

He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to yours, Dean was always so gentle with you. You moved deeper into the kiss, adding more pressure to his lips. He pulled away biting his bottom lip like he always did, a precursor to the devious gleam in his eye that warned of the impending explosion. He cupped your face, pinning you between his body and the doorframe, caging you and claiming your mouth. You ran your hands along his chest, beginning to fumble with the top buttons. He pulled back, ripping the shirt over his head, and picking you up to wrap your legs around his waist. He attacked your neck and chest all the way to his bed, dropping you to the mattress and watching your breasts bounce. “Damn, your beautiful, Sweetheart.”

 

You panted, watching him strip down to his boxers, pausing to tear your jeans and top from you before crawling up your body. He planted perfectly spaced kisses on your skin as he moved and worshiped your breasts. “Dean.” You moaned, threading your fingers through his hair. He straddled your hips, running his large hands down your ribs, and gripping your hips.

 

Dean leaned over you, crashing his lips to yours. He curled his fingers around your wrists, leaning back with a smirk, and pulling you on top of him. “Baby Girl, I think it’s gonna be a white Christmas.” He winked, and you playfully smacked his chest.

 

**“You’re so disgusting.” You giggled, your fingers dancing over his tattoo and colliding your lips into his once more, humming in pleasure, “It’s gonna be a very white Christmas.” **


End file.
